Date: Sat, 25 Jun 2005 14:28:08 -0400 (EDT)
From: mori jane
Subject: Flames to Ice- Chapter 5
Legal Disclaimer: This story is a fictional story written by me. I'm
assuming that you want to read it and can, or if you can't well...that's
your choice and I hope you enjoy it! If someone wants to post this
somewhere than please ask for permission. :)
Note to readers: It has been a loooooong time. Sorry about that. I have a
valid excuse, really. But now its summer so hopefully I'll be able to write
quicker, but until then, here's the next chapter. Please feel free to
e-mail me at morijane3004@yahoo.ca, I love hearing from you.
Chapter 5
I dreamt something fucked. I don't even know what it was but there were
some weird sound effects. I woke up feeling pretty disoriented not knowing
what had woken me up-it was still pitch black outside as far as I could
tell. Listening quietly in the darkness, I collected my thoughts. I heard
some noise in the next room and I flipped. Our neighbours, the Cruthers,
had been broken into about a month ago and even though they had caught the
"no-good teenage ruffians" as Mrs. Cruther called them, I've been
incredibly paranoid since.
"David," I whispered.
No answer.
"David!" That one was practically hissed, but there was still no response.
Fucking hell. I slowly slid out of my bed, nearly tripping over my
backpack and retrieved my bat from my closet as quietly as I could. I was
about the go out into the other room, but I lost my nerve. If I was going
to have to fight I sure as hell wanted some back up. I crept over to where
David had fallen asleep earlier and crouched down. I poked at the lump. He
groaned and jumped, flipping the covers off his face, successfully whacking
mine in the process.
"What the fu--" he started louder than I would have liked at the time.
I slapped my hand over his mouth to prevent him from being heard from the
next room.
"Shhhhh. You have to be quiet, okay?" I whispered
I could sense his confusion, but he nodded. I took my hand off his mouth
"You have to get up, man. I think I heard someone in the next room. I think
someone broke in!"
"Shit! Really?" He sat up fast. Too fast. His head collided with mine,
tossing me on my ass with my hands nursing my pain-filled head. I heard him
inhale sharply.
"Way to get out of the way, dickhead," he groaned.
I gaped at him.
"That was your fault!" I accused in a hushed voice.
"Yeah, well, get me your bat. You can use that head of yours to beat them
up," he chuckled.
That brought me back to my senses. We had a job to do. But I had to resist
the urge to throw his pillow at him.
I picked up my bat, and we got up, creeping towards to door.
"Yo, where's my weapon?"
"I don't have anything else, just the bat. Wait here, and back me up if it
looks like I need it."
And with that, I opened the door and stepped out. David flicked on the
light as I lifted the bat up to ready my swing.
I was stunned. Not just by the light, but the sight of a cat kicking off
the sofa that he was scratching at. I looked at the windows, and saw that I
had kept one of the open but not stupidly-it was by no means large enough
for any human to get through. The cat must have come through there.
I lowered the bat and looked over at David, and we started laughing. The
cat, that was more like a kitten just sat there, head cocked, looking at us
with its big green eyes.
"Dumbass, you woke me up for this?" he said with a smile that softened his
words.
"Shut up. If it was someone, you would hate it if I bagged the guy on my
own while you were asleep like a baby in the next room."
I gave my attention to the kitten. It had ginger-orange fur, like a
tigercub, and the fur was mussed up giving it a comical look. I melted.
"It's so cute!"
I walked up to it slowly, not wanting to scare it, and held out my hand. It
hesitantly extended its neck, sniffing at my fingers. Then it lolled out
its tongue and lapped at them. I grinned. "I am so keeping it."
"Uhh.D? It's a stray. Don't you think you might want to get it checked out
before you decide to keep it? And aren't you forgetting your mom. Last time
I heard, she was still wasn't in to the whole pet thing."
That burst my bubble a bit. I sat down on the couch and placed the ball of
fur in my lap, stroking it until it purred contentedly in my arms. A
thought came to me.
"I know. I'll keep it down here-Mom will never know." I grinned up at
David, satisfied with my reasoning abilities at this ungodly hour.
He just looked at me like I was crazy.
"I'll tell her sooner or later.just.I need time to warm her up to it."
"All right, buddy."
"I'll convince her somehow. And if it takes me longer to make her realise
her love for animals, maybe you can keep it for a bit?"
"Uhhh. How about, no."
"Aww. Look at this face. How can you say no?" I lifted the kitten until it
was resting on its back two paws, and held its head up to mine. I hugged it
close and stuck out my lower lip in a pout while softening my eyes. It was
my best pleading look and it had not failed once.
He made a show of sighing and rolling his eyes, but when his eyes met mine
again, I knew I had won. And with that I plopped the kitten in his lap.
"Heyyy! Get it off of me."
The cat started rolling around in his lap, trying to burrow its head in his
abs. But it didn't look like there was any give. An image of my face
resting on his hard, chiselled and very naked chest popped up
unexpectedly. My mouth went dry. I licked my lips slowly and raised my eyes
to his face. The annoyed expression resting there surprised me and I had to
focus my energy on trying to remember why. Oh right. The cat.
"Nope. You'll have to get used to it anyways. Besides, it looks like he
likes you. Don't you, kitty," I finished, scratching the head lightly. It
meowed, delighting me.
We stayed like that for some time-David and I sitting side by side, him
holding the cat gently in his arms. We started talking about other things,
our voices settling into a hushed tone, emphasizing the intimacy building
in our exchange. I got up once, but only to turn off the light, deposit the
kitten in the unused mudroom with a nice ratty patio cushion and a heater
(in case it had a "little accident" I didn't want it to be on me or David!)
and get the sleeping bag, some pillows and a blanket for us.
He didn't feel like moving, but I nudged him until he rolled onto the
sleeping bag and I stretched out beside him, covering us with the
blanket. It was a bit cold, and I felt him scoot closer to me, until our
bodies were touching. The heat coming off of him felt amazing.
"Move over a bit," he said.
I complied, a little confused, but then I felt his head on my pillow, so
close to mine. He angled it towards me, and I moved mine towards his, so
that they were touching. I closed my eyes for a minute, savouring the
peacefulness, thanking God that things looked like they were going to be
all right between us-especially considering his mood earlier that night.
"D, what do you see in your future?" he questioned softly.
It was a question that I had asked myself many times before. Sometimes the
answer was satisfying, with a confident resolve that made me believe that
my dreams would come true. But most of the time, the answer was so
disappointing, so heartbreaking that I would lay awake for many nights,
feeling depression envelope me-my mind screaming, my soul crying. Nothing,
I wanted to tell him. I'm not good enough to get anything. I'm a
disappointment; weak, stupid.
Instead I said, "I don't know."
He made a sound of disbelief.
"Don't tell me you, Damien, of all people, don't have a plan."
I did have a plan. Well, two plans. One was a plan so extravagant, it was
almost a joke. There would be no way I could succeed in bringing it to
life. The other.well, the other was more realistic, but way too depressing
to make me want to live through it.
"Well, what do you want, at least?"
Everything. A strong, supportive family. True love. The world.
"I want a lot of things," I told him. "My main dream is simple. I want a
loving husband, and amazing kids that I can love and play with. I want to
be loved in return. I want a family.and it just.hurts you know? It's hard
enough to have a real family without there being a gay factor to fuck it up
even more. Like, people cheat, people leave, they die! But I've been
hearing all this shit about how a lot of gay guys aren't all that
monogamous. And even if they are, what are the chances that we could get
married? Have kids? Some people might be getting more liberal but fuck,
there are plenty of people that don't want to see a gay couple adopt
kids. It just sucks that such a simple dream is so hard to fulfill. I don't
know.it just fucking hurts." He was silent. "And I know that there is more
to life than that, I do. But everything else doesn't seem all that worth
while if there isn't someone to share it with. No one to come home to at
the end of the day, after a tiring day of ruling the world.and just be
with."
What I didn't add was that even if people were more accepting, even if
there were higher chances of happy monogamous relationships.I highly
doubted that would happen to me. At the risk of sounding self-pitying, I
truly believe that I would never be loved. That I'm not good enough to be
loved. I don't deserve it. Sure I was no insane murderous fiend, but I
wasn't good enough to deserve the kind of love I wanted. I'm nothing. Not
good enough. Weak. Some people were strong enough to withstand
anything. There are people starving, dying, abused everyday of their lives,
alone. There are people whose lives are spent living in fear. These things
happen on a daily basis, and I have to wonder how I would have held up in
any of those situations. And I realize that I couldn't have. And I admire
those people who strive to survive. But some people's lives are so hard
that I wonder why they still fight. Not in a twisted way, but I think that
because I just don't understand why they fight a futile battle, or even if
they win, if it was worth all the pain.
Maybe that was one of my problems, I gave up to easily. My mind went to
suicide too fast. I wouldn't do it, not now. Wouldn't thrust that pain on
my family, but as soon as they died.I would probably die, because I doubt I
would have anything worth living for, be worth life. It bothered me that I
was weak. That I was so easily hurt. Who would want to be with a fucking
sissy that cries inside every time he sees someone get hurt. Someone who
couldn't be happy. An emotional masochist. I made myself depressed more
often than not. If I felt happiness for an abnormal amount of time, I made
myself sad. I reminded myself of the things I worked hard to put out of my
mind to continue living. I kept doing that until it hurt too much to cry,
so I made my heart frozen. I wasn't unfeeling, but I made myself not care
when something happened. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep going on
everyday with a smile plastered on my face if I did. I didn't know how to
deal with pain any other way. Certainly not with death.
And I was not special in any way. There was nothing extraordinary about
me. I was average. Surely I would need to be good at something, be
something more than average for me to be loved the way I craved. Saying I
was average was even pushing it. Who would want me? I'm a weak, pathetic,
unremarkable little shit that takes things for granted, that can't help
anyone because I'm not strong enough to even help myself. I want to kill
myself perpetually. WHO WOULD WANT ME? I don't even want me. SO FUCKING
WEAK!
And even if God were to bless me, make someone want to be with me, make
someone love me, I wouldn't be able to go through with it. Life, the
universe, is all about balance. I've been lucky enough to have an early
life filled with good things, love from a wonderful family, some friends,
nothing I wanted I didn't get. If I got true love too.that would push the
good over so far over the limit something horrible would have to happen to
balance it all out. Be it the pain when that person dies, or they leave
you, something. But it would hurt too much. Too much. I would rather be
lonely for the rest of my life. Lonely is pain too, but its little pain
over a longer time. That even my weak ass could probably take. It's better
than the world of pain that would hit me, especially since my "true love"
would probably have melted my frozen heart. And so I was stuck. Living a
life that wouldn't make me happy. Empty of all the things that I needed. Of
love, of a family, of dreams. I could dream of having the world all I
wanted. But getting even that, to me, wouldn't be worth it.
So how did I see my future? As melodramic as it sounds, I didn't see
one. Up until this year I had at least felt some hope. An annoying little
sliver that just wouldn't fucking die. But more thinking had made me
realize that it was just time for me to realize the truth and just try to
get over it. Maybe make my life worth living in other ways.
"Come on, Damien. Don't think like that. You sound so defeated and I don't
like it. You'll find someone. I know you will. You may not believe it, but
you're an amazing person. You have such a good heart. You deserve
happiness. You will find true love. And you will have a family. Fuck,
you'll be the best dad ever." He turned on his side to face me then slid
his hand down to find mine and gave it a firm squeeze.
At that moment, I think I felt more safe and content than I ever felt in my
entire life. It felt weird to have him hold my hand. I don't think he had
done that since we had held each others hands to cross the street when we
were younger, but he didn't seem to mind and I was glad for it. I realized
at that moment how much David really meant to me. I loved him. I wished him
all the happiness in the world. It made me almost sad that he was straight,
and not because of sex this time. I had to remind myself that even if he
wasn't, nothing could come of it.
A few moments passed.
"What do you want in your future?" I asked softly.
He squeezed my hand briefly. Then thought for a moment.
"I want what you want."
We were quiet for the rest of the night, falling asleep soon after. I woke
up in the middle of the night, feeling unusually warm. It took my
sleep-drugged mind a minute to understand. David was spooning me from
behind, holding me to his body. Our hands were still entwined. A feeling of
happiness washed over me and I slept on.